


The Rain Room

by atamascolily



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Aerial silks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Jedi Training (Star Wars), Rain, aerial - Freeform, dance, date night for my faves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 10:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamascolily/pseuds/atamascolily
Summary: Mara stages a private demonstration of silk-dancing for Luke.





	The Rain Room

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by videos/photos of the [Rain Room art installation](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rain_Room) by Hannes Koch and Florian Ortkrass, and [Versatile Assassins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_X09NCfyrc) aerial dance piece "Young and Beautiful". 
> 
> Technically, this is set six months after the events of my fic [Desert Places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735222), but I've kept the details vague enough it could be anywhere in canon post-VOTF.

Luke heard the sound of water running as he stepped into the studio Mara had rented for today's work and wondered for a moment if a pipe had burst. Then his eyes adjusted as the lights flicked on, and he realized that despite the clear skies outside, there was a rainstorm _inside_ the studio. 

It was the oddest space he'd ever seen. Every surface was painted black, and rain fell in an even, steady patter from the ceiling into a tiny circular drains cut into raised platforms in the floor. The only light was from a series of spotlights running across the ceiling and part of the far wall, giving the room a ghostly, ambient glow. Except for two strands of blue silken fabric that stretched from floor to ceiling in the center, the room was empty. 

Luke frowned slightly. Nothing in his conversations with Mara had prepared him for anything like this. Yet he'd check and double-checked the address, and the bored Rodian attendant had directed him to the room reserved for Skywalker and Jade, party of two, for the rest of the afternoon. He was in the right place, all right--he just didn't know what it meant. 

It had been six months since he and Mara had acknowledged their feelings when a stirring in the Force had blended their minds and hearts. They'd known each other for half a decade now, fought at each other's side and saved each other's lives half a dozen times, but in many ways, they were still getting to know one another. Even experiences that had been shared through their unspoken bond in the Force didn't feel real or acknowledged unless they were accompanied by equally intimate exchanges with spoken words. To catch up on this work, they'd taken a leave of absence from the fledgling Academy on Yavin and come to Coruscant. In addition to visiting with Han, Leia and their children--not to mention their other friends and acquaintances on the city-planet that were still getting to used their new status--they spent much of their time ensconced in their apartment, just talking.

Well, mostly, talking, anyway. Given that they'd spent more than half of those six months apart, they had a lot of catching up to do in other areas as well. 

One subject that came up frequently in their conversations was Mara's early training as a dancer in Palpatine's court. Luke had repeatedly expressed a curiosity to watch her perform. 

"Skywalker, if you want to watch a professional, we can go to the theater," she said at last. "I'm retired." 

That wasn't quite true. He'd seen her dance once for Talent Night at the Academy--hence his eagerness to see more. "I don't want to see _professionals_. I want to see _you_." 

If she'd been uncomfortable, he would have dropped the subject, but to his surprise, she nodded. "A private performance. Give me a week to get ready." 

"Of course," he said, wondering what he was getting into, but curious to see the results. 

Now he stood in the doorway of the studio, listening to the rain, and wondering exactly what kind of show Mara had in mind. 

"What is this place?" he said aloud, idly reaching a hand into the rain. 

Even as he moved, the water shifted, parting like a curtain around him so that his hand stayed dry even as rain kept falling around him. Fascinated, he took one step, then another into the studio, yet the effect was the same.

"There are sensors in the ceiling tracking your motion," Mara said from behind him. He had been so absorbed in the water, he hadn't noticed her approach. 

"Very atmospheric," he said, returning to the dry section. 

"That's the general idea," she agreed. 

She wore a loose, flowing top that shifted from blue to green and back over a skintight black body suit that extended just past her knees and elbows. In contrast to her usual formal style, she'd tied her hair back in a loose bun with a wide black headband, but her attitude was brisk and nonsense, as if it were business as usual. 

And maybe for her, it was. She'd been trained as a dancer, after all. For Luke, this was a side of Mara that would take some getting used to. 

That was the whole point of this meeting. He'd wanted a demonstration--and here they were. 

"Well," said Mara. "Ready to watch me fly?" 

"It's not possible to fly under your own power," Luke said, gesturing to the two stands of fabric hanging from the ceiling. "Not without motors or thrusters or repulsors. Hovering--yes. Gliding--yes. But _flying_\--" 

"Stop talking before you embarrass yourself. I see the great Jedi has never heard of Coruscanti silk-dancing before."

"Should I have?" 

She shrugged. "It was only the most popular art form on the planet during my childhood. The silks were specially harvested from harvest spiders farmed on the lower levels--they're incredibly light, stronger than durasteel. It wasn't uncommon to have performances outdoors in the skylanes, on silks hundreds of meters long, with no other safety supports. But I guess I can't expect an uncultured farmboy to know about that sort of thing." 

He bore her teasing with a good-natured smile of his own. "Not much in the way of culture on Tatooine by anybody's reckoning, and silk-dancing would have been too _decadent_ for us third-rate farmboys." 

"You were a first-rate farmboy," she corrected archly. "It's your _farm_ that was certified third-rate. Your planet was tenth-rate." 

"We did our best with what we had to work with. Silk-dancing definitely wasn't part of it. The water, though... we could have used that." 

Mara pursed her lips. "The water isn't strictly necessary, but it's a nice touch. This studio came with that option and... I thought you'd appreciate it." 

"You made this dance for me?" That was vaguely embarrassing and flattering at the same time. 

"Not quite. I've done things like this before as part of a performance. But this particular dance... yes, that's new." 

She stepped forward onto the platform and the rain parted around her as she picked her way to the dangling fabrics. She yanked the headband off her head in one swift motion, and, turning to meet his eyes, tied it around her eyes like a blindfold. Only then did she reach up and grasp the silks, one in each hand. For a long moment, she held herself there, silent. 

Then the music started and she sprang into action. 

Yoda had made put Luke through all kinds of physical training on Dagobah as part of his Jedi training. He'd hauled himself up vines and over trees, running laps in the swamp for hours. Flips, twists and spins, not to mention one-armed handstands and other contortions, were all part a day's work. When it came to physical expression, he'd thought he'd seen it all. 

This was something else entirely. 

Mara hoisted herself up into the air in a matter of seconds, darting up the silks as if they were stepping stones, not fluttering cloth. Without pausing, she wrapped a stand around each leg and thrust herself back, suspended several meters above the ground, with only the fragile-looking wraps keeping her from plunging to the ground. The rain fell around her, and none of it touched her or the silks as she spun and arched forward to hang in the other direction. A second later, she'd unwrapped her legs and thrown herself upside down with her legs outstretched in straddle--only to let go and fall, bouncing to a stop a meter later, with her legs bent to catch the silks in her knees. 

Luke's mouth was dry. Somewhere, he'd forgotten to breathe. He was ready at a moment's notice to grab her with the Force if she lost control, but she didn't need him. Her concentration was tight and focused, and he didn't want to distract her with a moment's panic. She knew what she was doing. He had to trust her. 

He didn't recognize the music--some long, slow, crooning instrumental--but Mara's motions kept in perfect pace, so calm, so assured. Neither the blindfold nor the long sleeves gave her a second's pause. She flowed from posture to posture, from impossible hold to impossible hold, unencumbered by gravity. 

Then the sensors cut out and the rain came down on her, too, soaking her to the skin. 

The music didn't stop and neither did she. If she were startled by the sudden soaking, Luke didn't catch it. She kept moving through the routine, flipping in and out of shapes that formed a language he didn't know how to speak but ached to learn. The rain glistened on her wet skin, her hair cascading in every direction, and he didn't ever want it to stop, but then the music came to a halt and he realized with a start that it was over. 

Mara dropped to a meter above the ground, held only by a loose knot of fabric around her waist. Then she untangled herself with a graceful curve, and jumped the rest of the way to the ground, landing light on her feet. 

She ripped the blindfold off, and pushed her way back to him, sending water everywhere. "What a nuisance," she said as she reached the rain's edge, squeezing the water out of her soaked clothing as best she could. 

Luke's mouth was dry. Somewhere in the middle of her dance, he'd forgotten to breathe. It took him a moment to assemble a coherent sentence. "That was _incredible,_" he managed at last. "And without the Force, too." 

"You don't need the Force for this, Skywalker," she scoffed, but he could tell from her posture that she was pleased. "Any decently-trained silk-dancer worth theirr weight could do what I just did. And I'm out of practice. Up until last week, I hadn't done anything like this, since, oh...." She screwed up her face, thinking. "Longer than I want to think about." 

"I hope this didn't bring back painful memories--" he started.

"No. It's not you. It's just--" She looked back at the silks, then turned to face him. "Life's turned out very differently than I thought, that's all." 

"Not unhappy with the results, I hope?" 

Mara's honesty was brutal as always. "Once--yes. Now--I can live with it." 

He reached out and crushed her, still dripping wet, and held her to his chest, heedless of the water soaking into his tunic. She didn't struggle, letting him support her the silks had supported her. 

"Lots of core strength," he said in her ear when they'd both recovered themselves. "Good Jedi training." 

"Everything is good Jedi training with you," she shot back. 

"That's right," he said, sticking his tongue in her ear. "But this looks like _especially_ good training. Balance--posture--poise--the ability to stay calm and controlled no matter the circumstances--" 

"You think so?" There was a quaver of uncertainty underneath the bravado that he would have missed if he didn't know her so well. She was still coming to terms with thinking of her training under Palpatine as training worthy of a Jedi. 

Time to put that particular misconception to rest. "I _know_ so. It fits the Jedi aesthetic and philosophy perfectly. Beautiful, disciplined, cultured. That's us in a nutshell, isn't it?"

She cracked a smile at last. "Some of us, anyway." 

"Well, you're going to have to teach me first, of course." 

She liked that. "You're on--if you can handle it." 

"Though maybe hold off on making me practice in the rain until I get my bearings? It looks incredibly distracting." 

"You get used to it," she laughed. "I'm sure you'll pick it up right away. I'll have you performing outdoors in the height of the Yavin wet season in no time." 

"I've got a better idea." 

"What?" 

"We'll do it _together_. For Talent Night." 

Mara drew her mouth back in surprise and wry acknowledgment of the touch he'd just scored. "Luke Skywalker you are a wicked, wicked man for someone so infuriatingly _good_." 

"So that's a promise?" 

She made it very clear it was.


End file.
